Gorens Fairy Tales
by Sunset
Summary: This is silly. Really silly. I just hope it's not to stupid.


"Excuse me. I beg your pardon." The well-dressed gentleman said. Bobby looked up from the endless pile of paperwork as the stranger clicked his heels together and bowed at the waist. "I hear tell that you are the greatest truth finder, and I find myself in desperate need of your services." Bobby detected an English accent within the old English style words, and thought Shakespeare obsession to him self.  
  
"Yes?" Intrigued, he put down his pen and stood from his desk, "Let's go in here," he extended his arm, toward a small conference room a few feet away, "where we can speak privately."   
  
The Englishman smiled at the gesture and stepped into the other room. "What can I help you with, Mr. . . .?" Bobby began, shutting the door behind him.  
  
The gentleman had begun to sit down, but stood again, reaching out to shake hands. "Charming. Harris Randolph Harper Charming." He introduced himself, and then sat.  
  
Bobby smiled slightly at the name, then sat down in a chair opposite Harris Charming. "Mr. Charming. What can I do for you?"   
  
"Well, dear fellow. I've been away for a while, and upon my return, my father took it upon himself to throw me a dance. I've been gone so long, I've lost touch with the girls in my town, and my father, desperate for grandchildren," Harris smiled slightly at the thought, "decided a dance would be the best way for me to reacquaint myself with them." Bobby settled back into his seat, listening. "Well. So, last evening, was the appointed day, and one by one I am introduced to the ladies." Harris leaned into the table, his voice taking on a man-to-man tone, "I shall tell you, good fellow, none of the ladies did I find fanciful." Bobby smiled slightly at the confidence. "Until across the room, I spied the loveliest creature I have ever seen." His eyes drifted away, toward the wall and Bobby could tell he was reliving the moment as he spoke. "Hair like spun gold. The bluest of eyes." He refocused in the present and looked again at Bobby. "I tell you, the most beautiful girl . . . Have you ever . . . ?" Bobby understood the unspoken question, and nodded somewhat, smiling softly at his own memory. "Ha!" The stranger again reached across the table, grasping Bobby's hands in his own. "Is it not wonderful?" His voice was full of the joy that only comes with new found love. "We danced all night, and when she left me at midnight, I was fully captivated by her."   
  
Bobby crinkled his brow "She left at midnight?"   
  
"Yes. Midnight. The bells. . . " Harris waved a finger in the air. "rung midnight."  
  
"Was. . . . did she not feel the same?" Bobby asked.  
  
"Oh! Yes!" Harris' face brightened at the thought. "I do believe she did feel as I. Just the same, she left my arms at midnight, down the steps, disappearing into the night."  
  
"Well . . . what is it that I can do for you?"  
  
"I need you to find her." Harris sat up straighter in his seat, bringing himself to the very edge of the chair. "You see, I do not know her name, and I have to find her."  
  
"You don't know her name?" Bobby asked, incredulously.  
  
"No, I'm afraid I was so enamored with her, all conversation left me, I could do nothing but look into her eyes."  
  
"And you think I can find her for you?"  
  
"I've heard tell you are the best."  
  
"Thank you, but . . ."  
  
"Oh, please. Please. . ." Harris reached into his inside coat pocket, and pulled out a sandal. "I have her sandal. Her foot slipped out of it, it lay on the stairs for me to find."  
  
Bobby reached across the table, taking the delicate sandal in his hands. He studied it for a moment or two, trying to figure out the best way to let this man down easily. Absently mindedly, he turned the sandal over in his hands. Mistaking Bobby's actions, Harris happily slapped his palm down on the tabletop. "Right then." He stood up quickly, and with such force his chair scraped against the floor. "You will find her, I will marry her, and we will live happily ever after."  
  
Bobby stood from his own chair, grasping out to Harris, to settle him down, trying to get a word in, to tell him finding an unnamed girl with only a shoe would be impossible. Harris was to caught up in his happiness to notice the intention. Grabbing Bobby's outstretched hand, he shook it vigorously. "Thank you. Oh thank you." And he strode out the door, whistling.  
  
~. ~  
  
Start with the shoe, he told himself, sitting down at his desk. Tumbling it from one hand to the other, he saw nothing unusual. He set it down on the top of the desk, and stared at it. The name Waltmens was stamped on the inside sole. Bobby thought it was as good a place as any to start.  
  
Waltmens Cobblers was a small store, three blocks off 5th Avenue. Bobby found a place in front and parked. A bell tinkled overhead when he opened the door, stepping inside.   
  
"Yes, can I help you?" A salesgirl asked, glancing down at the sandal in his hands, then back up to his face. A forced, polite smile appeared, but her eyes betrayed caution. She'd dealt with to many weirdo's with shoe fixations.  
  
Bobby held the shoe in his right hand, puling his badge case out of his pocket with his left. "NYPD," he showed her his shield. "I'm looking for a missing girl who may have bought this here." Slipping the case back into his jacket pocket, he held out the sandal to her.  
  
"Oh." The salesgirl said with relief. "Yes, this is one of ours. . . what is it that I can do to help?"  
  
"Sales receipts, charge slips, any records of when this style, in this size was bought, and by who."  
  
"Of course, it'll take me a few minutes." She said, stepping behind the register counter.   
  
"Wendy, did you sign for . . ." A man in a suite parted a dividing curtain, coming out from what Bobby assumed was an office. "Oh, excuse me." The man said, realizing Wendy was busy. He turned, starting to go back into the office, when Wendy's voice stopped him.  
  
"Mr. Waltmen, this is a New York City Detective. He's looking for a missing girl, who was wearing a paid of sandals from the Pixie line."  
  
Mr. Waltmen turned back around, bringing up his hand in the few steps it took him to reach the counter. "Always glad to meet one of our finest." His kindly brown eyes took on a worried cast. "There's a girl missing?"   
  
"Yes." Bobby answered. "Do you recognize the sandal?"   
  
Mr. Waltmen picked up the shoe from where Bobby had laid it down, on the counter. Holding it up, he studied it closely. Bobby thought of a jeweler examining diamonds. "Yes. . ." the cobbler said after a few moments. "It is one of ours, but it was very popular. Several girls bought it, and this is a very common size."   
  
"Well. . ." Bobby sighed, taking the stack of slips Wendy was holding out to him. "It's a place to start. Thank you."   
~. ~  
  
The bell tinkled again as Bobby left. Balancing the sandal on top of his leather notebook case, while he fished his keys out of his pocket, he heard giggling, and outright laughter from several feet away. Glancing to his left, he saw the source of the laughter was a group of hookers standing on the corner. All of them were looking back at him. Bobby looked down at the sandal, and realized how ridiculous he looked. Shrugging it off, he found the car key and stepped of the curb, headed for the drivers' side.   
  
"Hey, Baby, if you got a thing for them shoes, we got some just like it, we can help you out." One of the hookers called out to him, laughing.   
  
Stepping back up onto the curb, Bobby turned to them, pointing at the sandal. "Just like this?" The hooker nodded, smiling brightly. "Did you get them here?" Bobby pointed toward the door to Waltmens Cobblers.   
  
"Yep."   
  
Walking toward the group: "Do you all have a pair?" He glanced around at all of them. They all had different reactions to him. One girl glanced timidly down to the ground when his eyes fell on her. Another stared back at him, angrily. One yawned; another sniffled, and wiped her nose. The woman in the nurses uniform smiled at him coyly when he looked at her. And the last girl, her vacant eyes were half closed, she didn't seem to know where she was, let alone that he was there. Bobby looked back to the first woman, the only one who'd spoken to him, cocking his head to one side, and raised his eyebrows, waiting for an answer.   
  
A huge grin spread over her face, "No, not all of us." She jerked a thumb toward the girl who was still looking at the ground. "Just Shy and me do."  
  
"Joy . . ." The other woman glanced up, a pleading tone in her voice. When she saw Bobby looking at her, she went back to watching the cement.  
  
"Ain't nothing wrong with the man knowing you have a pair of shoes." Joy glanced over her shoulder at the shy girl, then back at Bobby. "You interested?" She asked, smiling brazenly.   
  
"Only in the shoes. Either of you go to a party last night?"  
  
"Honey, we go to a party every night." Joy laughed at her own joke. The hooker in the nurses uniform joined in.  
  
"Whitey wouldn't let us go to no party . . ." the angry one said.  
  
"Whitey?" Bobby asked.  
  
"Our . . ." Began the one with the cold. She thought about the right word to use ". . .our manager."  
  
Joy burst out in fresh laughter at the thought of their pimp being a manager. "Yeah. He's our manager."   
  
Bobby smiled; Joy's laughter was contagious. "So, nobody went to a party last night, and left this behind?" He held up the sandal.   
  
"Not me." The timid one said, her voice barely audible.   
  
Bobby looked back at Joy. She shook her head. "Ok. Thanks for your help."  
  
"Anytime, Honey." Joy said as Bobby turned, walking back to the SUV. "Anytime at all." She burst out laughing again.  
~. ~  
  
Bobby climbed into the car and started the engine. Turning on the air conditioning full blast, he sat letting the cool air hit him full force. After a moment, he reopened his eyes, turning his attention to the list he'd made from the sales receipts. The closest address was about ten minutes away. Bobby fastened his seat belt, put the SUV in gear, and checking the rear view mirror, pulled out into traffic.  
  
Driving slowly down the neighborhood street, he glanced from the address' he'd written down to the addresses on the houses. Finding the number he was looking for, he pulled to the curb, parked and got out. Approaching the house, he watched a large red cat saunter toward him, then, unimpressed, plop down on the porch, staring up at him with uninterested eyes. Bobby knocked twice, and waited a moment, hearing the sounds of movement coming from inside. The door opened, and he was surprised to find no one there.   
  
"Hi." Came a tiny voice from the vicinity of his knees. Following the voice, Bobby glanced down to find a little girl, around 6. Her long blonde hair was pulled haphazardly into a ponytail; several pieces of hair had been missed by the elastic band and hung around her face. "Hi." She repeated when Bobby looked down at her.   
  
"Hi." Bobby smiled, crouching down on his haunches, to her eye level. "Is your mommy home?"   
  
"Nope." She said, her tiny voice was interrupted from a more mature female voice, coming from deeper inside the house.  
  
"Alley? Alley, did you open the door?" The speaker stepped into the doorway, a rushed look on her face. "Alley, you know you're not supposed to open the door unless someone's with you." She scolded the little girl, casting a worried glance at Bobby as she spoke.   
  
"It's alright, Miss." Bobby said, standing. He pulled his badge out, showing it to her. "I'm Detective Goren, NYPD, are you . ." he paused, consulting his notes. "Vanessa Redbrook?"   
  
"Yes. . ." she hesitated, glimpsing down at the little girl, and noticed a pet bunny hoping up into the doorway. "Alley," Vanessa bent down, reaching for the furry white bunny, picking it up and handing it to the little girl. "Alley, take Bunny and go get him some lettuce."   
  
"Ok." Sang the little girl, taking her rabbit, hugging it hard against her chest. "Bye-bye Mr. Policeman."  
She giggled as Bobby waggled the fingers of one hand at her. Still giggling, she clenched the rabbit even closer turned and ran into the other room.  
  
Bobby watched as she disappeared into the house, then turned his attention back Vanessa. She was staring at him. "What can I do for you, Detective?"  
  
"Um. . . do you own a pair of sandals, like . . ." he paused pulling the shoe Harris Charming had handed him earlier that morning. "this one?"   
  
Confused, and somewhat relieved, Vanessa stared at the sandal "Yes. . ." she answered cautiously.   
  
"Well, this may seem an unusual question, but . . . did you go to a party for Harris Charming last night?"   
  
"No. I was here, with Alley."   
  
"Ok." Bobby said, "Thanks for your time."  
  
"Whatever." Vanessa answered, shutting the door.  
  
On the way back to the car, Bobby stepped over the red haired cat, who had stretched himself out on the warm cement of the sidewalk.  
~.~  
  
The next place Bobby stopped at was a run down trailer park. The one he was looking for turned out to be not a trailer, but more of a camper, and a camper so old, it looked as if it was from the 50's. Bobby knocked on the torn screen door hanging loosely on its hinges. The whole door banged roughly against the frame.  
  
"What?" Growled a horse, man's voice, as it's owner came into view.  
  
Bobby pulled out his shield, the bright gold a stark contrast to the dull tin of the camper.   
  
The man who answered the knock, pulled at his stained tee shirt, letting his hand rest on the belly it covered. He looked at the shield, then back at Bobby. "Yeah, so? Whatda want?"  
  
"I'm looking for Barbie Green, does she live here?"  
  
"Yeah." The man glanced behind him, into the trailer. "What'd she do?"  
  
"I just need to speak to her for a moment."  
  
"Hey." The man hollered as he turned away from the door. "Cop wants to talk to you."  
  
A beautiful girl, Bobby guess she was in her early 20's, came to the door. Her clothes were clean, and stitched, but in not much better shape than the tee shirt of the man who'd answered the door.   
  
"Yes?" She asked, her eyes, bright, despite her living circumstances.  
  
"Detective Bobby Goren" he introduced himself, "Barbie Green?"   
  
"Yes, that's me." She glanced behind her as the slob of a man came back to the doorway.  
  
Bobby held the sandal out to her. "Do you own a pair of shoes like this?"   
  
Barbie opened the screen door, stepping with one bare foot outside. She looked closely at the sandal in Bobby's hand, then up at him. "Yes. I do. Is something wrong?"  
  
"No. Not at all. Did, uh, did you happen to meet a man named Harris Charming last night?" Bobby asked, unsure why he found himself hoping it wasn't her.  
  
"No. Not unless he came to the gas station where I work. That's where I was last night." Barbie smiled at him sweetly.   
  
"Anything else?" The gruff man asked from behind her.  
  
"No. Nothing else. Thank you for your time." Bobby answered and turned, headed back to the SUV.   
  
~.~  
  
Resting his head in his hands, trying not to let the noise of the station aggravate his headache, Bobby sat at his desk, and recalled his day. He'd found most of the women from the cobbler's sales slips. One had triplet boys, their faces smeared with chocolate as they screamed and chased each other around her living room. Another had hair so long, she had to pull it over her shoulder it to sit down. The last one he'd spoken to, the one he'd just left, worked on a complicated needlepoint as they spoke. When he'd held the sandal up, she looked at it, but her hands hadn't stopped working, jabbing the needle into her finger.   
  
Now, back at his desk, in relative peace and quiet, Bobby moved his left hand from his head, pulling open his desk drawer with a little more force than necessary. Fumbling for his bottle of Aspirin, he popped the childproof top with his thumb, and chewed three pills, swallowing them dry.   
Raising his head slowly, testing his eyes against the light, he looked sideways at the shoe sitting on his desk. Sighing deeply, he sat back in his chair, and grabbed the sandal roughly. "What the hell did I get myself into?" He mumbled to himself, staring at the sandal.   
  
"Ah, there you are." A British accent said from behind him. Bobby turned in his seat, the shoe still clutched in his fingers. Harris Randolph Harper Charming stood there, and at his side stood what had to be the ugliest girl Bobby had ever seen in his life. And that included corpses.   
  
"My sandal!" Exclaimed the girl as she rushed over to Bobby, seizing the shoe from his hands. Bobby watched, dumfounded as she scattered back to Harris' side, clutching his arm.  
  
"You see," Harris explained "After I left here this morning, I went straight home, and," Harris paused a moment, thinking he was increasing the tension, "there, on my steps. . ." he turned to look at the ugly girl on his arm "was this beautiful creature." The 'beautiful creature' giggled, a sound Bobby had only previously heard in pastures. "She'd come back to pick up her sandal. We came straight back here, to say thank you anyway, and to pick up the shoe, but you and the sandal were nowhere to be found. I must say old man, you do work fast. We tried to reach you, but when your Capitan dialed, you never answered."   
  
It took Bobby a moment to realize what Harris was saying. Slapping at his pockets, he realized that no, he didn't have his cell phone with him. Pulling open the same drawer that held the Aspirin, there sat his cell phone. Grabbing it, Bobby flipped the button, turning it on, and the cell phone came to live, ringing. He pushed the button that should have stopped the ringing, and opened the line, but the ringing didn't stop. Bobby stabbed at it twice more with his finger, but the ringing was relentless. Holding it up to his ear anyway, he shouted "Hello?" and not getting an answer, he started to push every button on the phone. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harris and his 'beautiful creature' turn quietly and walk away. Bobby didn't care. He just wanted the incessant ringing to stop, and considered slamming the damn phone into his desk, anything to make the ringing stop. He held it up to his ear, he didn't know why, but he did, and shouted another "Hello?"  
  
"Bobby? Bobby it's Alex, are you alight?"  
  
"What? Why do you ask?"  
  
"I've been waiting down stairs for twenty minutes, and ringing your phone for five. Were you still asleep?"  
  
Bobby realized his cell phone had stopped ringing. He also realized something was wrong. Opening his eyes, he wasn't at his desk, he was in bed. The covers a tangled mess at his feet. There was no Harris Charming. There was no ugly missing girl, no sandal. He let out a deep sigh of relief.  
  
"Bobby?" Alex's voice had a worried tone. "Bobby are you ok?"  
  
"Yeah. Yeah, Alex, I'm fine. Come on up, sit on my couch while I get dressed. I gotta tell you about this dream I had."  
  
  
  
  
  
And they lived happily ever after. 


End file.
